


Because You Aren't

by backgroundmelodies



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 13:05:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4102036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backgroundmelodies/pseuds/backgroundmelodies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some hateful remarks from Donovan and Anderson, some witty comebacks from Sherlock, and some kind words from John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because You Aren't

**Author's Note:**

> I dreamt this up a while ago and made a post about it on my tumblr, but now it's summer and I've gotten enough time to actually write it out. Thanks to everyone for reading!

The two flatmates arrived at the crime scene together, as normal. They were nearly inseparable after everything that had happened since they met. They stepped out of the cab and into the sight of the dubious Sargeant Donovan.

"What are you doing here?" she questioned rudely.

Sherlock looked her over expressionlessly. "I would take the time to explain it to you, but I'm afraid you wouldn't be able to grasp the concept. Your head is all too filled with nonsensical thoughts of Anderson right now."

Donovan was obviously angered by that remark, seeing as her jaw had locked and she had unconsciously clenched her fists, but she didn't say anything, just turned away from them and headed towards the body with Sherlock and John close behind.

They arrived at the maimed body of a man, which Sherlock would have began deducing had Anderson not inturrupted.

"Try not to compromise the integrity of my crime scene, freak," he said snarkily. 

"Perhaps you should worry more about the inegrity of your marriage, Anderson. Donovan and you seem to be having quite a bit of fun while tearing it to shreds."

"That's enough, Sherlock," John said, in an attempt to keep them from being rushed away from the crime scene before Sherlock could get a good look at the body.

All of Johns tactics couldn't, however, keep Anderson from glaring at Sherlock before storming off somewhere.

Sherlock payed no mind to this, though, as he quickly examined the body, making deduction after deduction, none of which John could even hope to imagine. Sherlock quickly whisked off the scene soon thereafter, leaving John to find his own cab back to their flat, as was normal to him by now.

What wasn't normal, was arriving home to see an empty sitting room. He had expected to see chemicals being fiddled with in the kitchen, or Sherlock playing his violin, or maybe even laying on the couch with his fingers put together in thought. That wasn't how it was, though. The flat appeared to be empty.

The shuffling of papers which came from Sherlock's room alerted John that this was not, however, the case. He quietly walked down the hallway and cracked open his flatmate's door.

"Sherlock?" He whispered quietly into the dimly lit room. When no response came, he opened the door and peeked father in to see Sherlock sitting cross-legged on the floor with many papers, books, and photographs scattered around him. He glanced up to look at John's face and, for only a moment, John seemed to see a terrible loneliness hidden within his pale eyes.

"Sherlock, what's this about?" John had knelt next to his friend and could now see that everything scattered around him was from years ago, probably when Sherlock was still in Uni. There were notes to him from other students calling him names and just generally being rude, while the pictures were that of clubs and groups of friends, none of which included Sherlock.

Just as John was going to sweep everything into a pile which could be easily removed from Sherlock's vision, Sherlock spoke up, in a tone which showed he was trying to mask whatever emotions he was feeling, trying to keep up that sociopathic pretense, something that really didn't make sense right now, seeing as his words were some of the most emotional one's John had ever heard him say.

"You are the only one, John."

John, confused, asked the only thing that came to mind. "The only one?"

"The only one who has never thought of me as-" his voice cracked here causing a hesitation, but he hurried to finish. "As a freak."

With that Sherlock locked himself inside his head, not wanting to see John's reaction. He didn't want to be pitied, he especially didn't want to be corrected, but he had said this much anyway, though he wasn't sure why.

John, however, didn't do either of those things. Instead, he crossed his legs and waited silently until Sherlock tuned back into the world around him. This took longer than John would have liked, but he was patient and Sherlock eventually came back to him, having deemed it would now be safe to do so.

John leaned in front of Sherlock now, and held his face tenderly. He made sure to look Sherlock in the eyes before telling him lovingly, "That's because you aren't one." 

He allowed this to sink in for a moment before leaning in to give him a brief kiss. This was their first, but he was sure there would be more to come. With a smile, he stood. "Now clean up this mess, and I'll make us some tea. Come out when you're ready."


End file.
